


You're Early

by duchess_of_brighton



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Good Parent Jim "Chief" Hopper, Hopper in Love, Jim "Chief" Hopper Lives, Love, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sex, Sexy Chief Hopper, Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchess_of_brighton/pseuds/duchess_of_brighton
Summary: You and Hopper have been dating for a while, and you're busy getting ready for your first sleepover... but then Hop turns up early and smutty fun times ensue! And once smut turns to love, life gets a bit more complicated!
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper & Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper & You, Jim "Chief" Hopper/Original Female Character(s), Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper/You
Comments: 107
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm supposed to be working on Butcher's Favourite Bar, but I started rewatching Stranger Things and now my head is just one hundred percent Hopper, all of the damn time. 
> 
> I haven't written reader insert for ages, but hopefully I've remembered how! I deliberately avoid giving much physical description of reader - you can fill in your own blank canvas - and I won't do 'Y/N' because for me that just jars - so it's 'baby' and 'sweetheart' all the way! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

You've been dating the Chief for a while, but taking things slow. You've both been burned before, and both of you have a past. Hopper definitely has scars, some of them from things he won't talk about. It bothers you a little, but you've accepted the deal. The way you feel about the man, it seems like a small price to pay. And besides, the closer you get, the more confident you become that one day he'll talk to you about what happened here in Hawkins that caused the haunted look he gets sometimes.

You only moved here recently, and while you've heard plenty of stories and gossip, you know there's a truth somewhere amongst all the rumour and speculation that only Hopper can tell you. The first time you met him, you sensed there was a lot going on under the brash, sarcastic persona that he presented. Those blue eyes have seen some sights, you have no doubt, but from the first time your eyes met his, you knew you wanted to get closer. Happily, he seems to feel the same way. 

There were a few non-dates - bumping into each other in town when it seemed you both happened to be heading to get coffee, so you might as well get that coffee together - and then your first pre-arranged date, which was officially billed as Hopper giving you a ride to an event in the next town that you'd both been planning to attend anyway. And then somehow it became natural for the two of you to spend time together, whether that was a quick coffee break or a rarer restaurant dinner. There wasn't a moment when you declared you were officially dating, it was more that other people started to refer to you as _‘you know, the woman Chief Hopper is dating'_. And neither you nor Hopper corrected them.

Because you were both wary, it was a few weeks of dating before you even kissed, though in some ways the anticipation made it even better. It had gotten to the point where just a brush of his fingers against yours made your whole body shiver with arousal. You were pretty sure he knew it too, and there was no way he was immune to your touch either. One night, after driving you home and walking you to your door, he finally palmed your cheek, leaned in close, and brushed your lips with his. It was probably intended to be a short, respectful first kiss, but somehow the second your lips touched, all of that went out the window. Hopper had you pinned against your front door, devouring your mouth while your hands tightened on his biceps and his thigh pressed between yours, creating an ache that had you whimpering into his mouth. You were pretty sure it was only the interruption of his police radio that stopped him from taking you right there on your front porch.

Since then, you've fooled around a little, as much as two demanding jobs, conflicting schedules, and his parenting a teenage daughter (who you're not yet allowed to meet) will allow. Things got kind of hot and heavy in his car one night after a date, with his hands under your shirt and yours just starting to undo his belt, until he remembered he was Chief of Police and you both remembered you weren't twenty one anymore. That's when he suggested this sleep over, the one you've been planning for all week. You've got the outfit picked out, the food organised, even the lighting is going to be perfect.

You glance at yourself in the mirror and give your reflection a wry smile. _Well, I guess this is the 'before' picture..._ Your hair is tousled, your face a little flushed from rushing around getting the place ready, and you're wearing your favourite lounging garment - a flannel shirt Hopper insisted on giving you one night when you were shivering in a thin T-shirt after the sun went down. The shirt smells like him, and sometimes you sleep in it, imagining it's Hopper wrapped around you rather than just his shirt. 

You turn to the bed, and the stack of clean sheets and blankets. Last chore, then you can focus on getting yourself ready for tonight. Shaking out the double sheet, you reach over the bed to tuck it in, your arms stretched across the mattress and your butt in the air, and at that moment hear the footsteps behind you, and a familiar voice.  
"I thought you were trying to get yourself killed, but maybe you're just trying to kill me?"  
"Hop-" Before you can stand up and turn around, you feel a large pair of hands on your hips. Hips that, in your position spread over the bed, are only covered by the last few inches of his flannel shirt and a pair of what now feel like very inadequate panties.  
"Stay. Right. There." His voice is even deeper than usual, with a gravelly tone to it. "You left the front door unlocked, baby. Not safe or smart."  
"Oh, shit, I was distracted, I-" Your words die on your lips as one of his hands smoothes down to your thigh, passing over the flannel and onto bare skin.  
"You were getting the place ready for tonight, huh?" His hand is on the back of your leg now, and a shiver runs through you as his thumb strays to the inside of your thigh. "I got to say, I really like the outfit." His voice drops even lower, "You look damn good in my shirt."  
You swallow and find you voice, turning your head to look at him, meeting those intense blue eyes. "Trust me, this wasn't the outfit I had planned. You're early." He's still in his uniform, and must have come straight from the station.  
"Yeah... I'd apologise, but I can't be sorry for walking in on this." He's smiling, but his eyes bore into yours, and what you see there makes you swallow.  
"Yeah, well," You try to sound nonchalant, "Your loss. Dinner will be at least another hour, and I was going to let you see me in a dress, but now..."  
He moves suddenly, strong hands turning you, and in seconds you're on your back on the bed, and he's looming over you, his hands resting on the mattress either side of your rib cage. "I'm not hungry. And like I said, you look damn good in my shirt."  
"I like your shirt." You admit, running your hands up his strong arms.  
"I think the only outfit I'd prefer," He says slowly, as one hand moves to your chest and his fingers gently undo a button, "Is naked." He pops another button, and you can't help but squeeze your thighs together to try to relieve the pressure as you flood with arousal.  
"Nuh uh." He shakes his head slightly, still with a half smile on his lips, and places one knee on the bed in between yours, keeping your legs apart. "That's my job, sweetheart." He opens the few remaining buttons, and gently flips back the soft flannel to expose your body to him. 

You swallow hard as his eyes slowly roam over you. You're hardly in your best underwear - you'd been saving that for tonight - but the plain cotton bra and panties you're wearing aren't bad. Hopper doesn't seem to mind them either, judging by the low growl he emits. You’ve pictured this moment a few - okay, many - times, but it always involved you both getting naked, not him standing over you, fully dressed, somehow emphasising the height and size of him, that big strong body that you suspect is capable of giving you unimaginable pleasure. Hopper leans down and plants a soft kiss at the top of your breast, tracing his tongue along where the cup of your bra meets your skin. The mewling sound that leaves your mouth is unintentional, but since it elicits another growl from him, it can't be a bad thing. 

In a sudden movement, he drops to his knees on the floor, and his hands grab your thighs, yanking you closer, your butt coming to the edge of the mattress as your legs part around his shoulders.  
"Hop-" But the rest of that sentence is forgotten as he lowers his head and presses his mouth to your cotton covered centre.  
He groans as you let out a gasp, and your eyes meet his. He lifts his head only slightly as he says, "You're so fucking wet for me already, baby. I've been thinking about this for weeks. How much do you like these panties?"  
"What?" You ask in some confusion, but his meaning become clear as he extracts a knife from a pocket and makes to slice through the side of your underwear, his eyebrows raising in question before he makes the cut. Jim Hopper about to cut off your panties in order to get his mouth on you might just be the sexiest thing you've ever seen in your life, so you nod, and he efficiently slices through the fabric on each side, baring your increasingly dripping pussy to his gaze. 

"Oh fuck, baby. You smell like heaven.” His dips his head and the next thing you feel is his warm tongue licking a firm path through your folds, making you shudder with pleasure. “Taste like it, too.” He mumbles, before dropping his head to focus on your pleasure. He seems to know instinctively what will feel good, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, tracing your entrance before plunging inside, then pulling back and feathering his tongue over your clit again, keeping you guessing, ramping up the stimulation until you're so wet you feel your juices creeping down your inner thigh, your hips moving of their own accord, your skin on fire and your voice rasping as you say his name.  
"Hop, please... Please..."  
He takes his mouth from you just briefly, "You gonna come on my tongue, sweetheart?" His voice is a low growl, and he doesn't wait for an answer before gripping your hips tightly and clamping his lips around your clit, sucking hard.  
Your toes curl, your thighs shake, and your hands claw at the bedsheet as your hips fight Hopper's hold, a hold so tight you know you'll have bruises, and then you detonate into the best orgasm of your life, fire spreading through your body, your back arching, as you sob out an approximation of his name. His tongue continues to stroke gently over your clit, drawing out your climax almost to the point of pain.  
When he finally lets you go and raises his head, you slump back onto the bed, every muscle going lax as little aftershocks continue to make you shiver. Prying your eyes open takes an extraordinary amount of effort, but it's worth it to see Hopper's grin as he wipes the back of his hand across his face, trying in vain to remove some of your glistening juices from his beard.

"Hey, sweetheart. How you doing there?"  
You swallow, trying to focus enough to answer him. "Jesus, Hop. That was... You are way too good at that."  
He laughs just slightly, "Guess I was hungry after all." He climbs to his feet, and you take the opportunity to drink in the sight of him, still fully dressed in his uniform, towering over you.  
"Take your clothes off, Hopper." You're desperate to feel his weight on you, to be naked with him, to make him feel as good as he just did you.  
He raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"  
You push yourself up to a seated position on the edge of the bed. "Hell yes, I'm sure." You look down at your body, clad in only your bra and the unbuttoned flannel shirt. "Fair's fair, after all..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! There's definitely potential for a second chapter/continuation, but let me know what you think in the comments and anything specific you'd like to see! 
> 
> Just so you know, though, I think Hopper likes to be in charge, so that's definitely the direction this is going to go... 
> 
> DoB xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you asked so nicely... ;-)

Hopper’s eyebrow is still raised as he looks down at you. "Fair's fair, huh?"  
"Well, you're the expert on the law, but I'm pretty sure I heard that somewhere."  
He nods slowly. "In that case, I get to keep my shirt on, right?" His face is serious but you can see a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.  
“You got me.” You concede, shrugging your arms out of the unbuttoned flannel shirt, and reaching behind your back to undo your bra. Sure, stripping off in front of him makes you a little self conscious, but since he just made you come harder than you can ever remember coming before, you figure it'll be okay, especially if this means he'll finally get naked. Besides, the way his eyes move straight to your breasts tells you he's happy with what he sees.

"Okay," You try to sound firm, but you're still a little breathless. "Now it's definitely your turn."  
"Hope you're not expecting some kind of striptease." His fingers finally go to his shirt buttons, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief.   
"No, I just want to..." You trail off as he sheds his shirt, unable to stifle a slight moan of desire as the broad torso that you've been daydreaming about is finally revealed. The thing about Hopper is, he's just so damn big and strong and imposing, and that does all sorts of things to you even when his clothes are on. Right now, with his clothes coming off, you'd be a puddle of goo even if he hadn't just eaten you out to a shattering climax. 

"Want to what?" He's almost smirking as he watches you watching him. "Got to say, the look on your face does wonders for my ego."   
"I just..." Nope, the words still aren't coming, because he's unbuckling his belt, and the clink of metal and slide of leather hold such promise that you can hardly breathe.   
"How about I help you out?" He kicks off his boots and steps out of his pants, and all you can do is stare at the mouth watering bulge in the front of his underwear. "I'll try finishing your sentences, and you tell me how I do."  
You just manage a nod, panting in anticipation as his hands go to his waistband. Your thighs rub together unconsciously, the ache between your legs building again at the thought of having him between them.  
"You just want... me to get on that bed with you?"  
"Yes." You rasp, willing him to push down his boxers and do just that.  
"You just want... me to spread your legs and get between them?"  
All you manage in response is a whimper, but maybe that's enough, because he finally, finally, sheds his underwear, and at long last you can see that Hopper is absolutely in proportion. Big, thick, and throbbing hard; you reach out on instinct to wrap your fingers around his dick - even if you doubt they'll be able to close around it.   
"Nuh uh." He brushes your hand away. "You didn't answer me, sweetheart."  
You finally manage to prise your eyes from his groin and look up at him. "What?"  
"I said: you just want... me to spread your legs and get between them. Right?"  
"Yes." You gasp in frantic agreement.  
"Good." His big hands grab your ankles and pull your legs apart, then he kneels between them and leans over you, supporting his weight on his elbows as you lay back, bringing his face close to yours. Your hips rise to seek out contact, and he smirks again.  
"You just want... me to kiss you?" His voice is a whispery growl, and this time he doesn't wait for your reply, instead covering your lips with his. 

You can still taste yourself on Hopper's tongue, which makes his devouring kiss even more intoxicating. The feel of him above you, his body covering yours completely as he kisses you breathless, might be even better than having his head between your legs. His hard length is pressed against your thigh, and you wriggle your hips, trying to bring him to where you need him. 

He raises his head, gently breaking your kiss, and brings his mouth to your ear instead. "You just want... me to fuck you into the mattress until you scream my name. Because I love hearing you say my name when you come."  
"Oh god, Hop... Please..." As if you weren't already wet enough for him, his words cause another surge of moisture between your thighs.   
"Yeah, just like that." He shifts slightly, and suddenly you feel his dick slide through your folds, the head nudging your clit.  
The sound that comes out of your mouth would be embarassing if it wasn't for the fact that it makes Hopper claim your lips for another searing kiss, before you finally feel him notch at your entrance.  
" _I_ just want to feel your hot, wet..." His words stutter just slightly as he starts to push inside you, his voice deeper and more gravelly than you've ever heard it, "Jesus, _tight_ , pussy..."   
Caught between his deliciously dirty words and the overwhelming feeling of his thick, hard dick stretching you as he fills you, you're impressed he can still speak at all - you couldn't if you tried. Your brain is on overload, sparks flying through your body at the pleasure of having Hopper increasingly deep inside you.   
"That's it, baby," He murmurs, as he presses all the way in, "Taking me just like I knew you would."  
"So good." You manage, and then when he stills, "Hop, please..." You try to shift your own hips to gain some friction, but his weight on you prevents it.   
"How do you like it, baby? Slow and steady...?" He pulls back, gliding almost all the way out of you before pushing right back in, and you whimper in response. It's good, but it's not enough. "Or..?"   
This time when he pulls out, he snaps his hips and drives back in so hard and fast that you wail with relief and delight.   
"Yeah," He grunts as he does it again, setting a demanding rhythm as you rock your hips into every thrust, "I had a feeling. My girl likes it hard, huh?"

You're not sure if it's his words, the feeling of him pounding you into the mattress, or him calling you his girl, but you can feel the familiar tightness in your belly, the tingling in your thighs... He was right, he's going to make you scream his name.   
Your hands are clutching his biceps, and you're torn between an urge to wrap your legs around his waist, and the desire to spread them even wider. Luckily, Hopper makes the decision for you as he reaches back and hooks his hand behind your thigh, opening you further as he speeds his thrusts.   
You're both sticky with sweat, breathing hard, his eyes are half closed as he grunts and drives into you again and again. The wet noises of your coupling, the pants of your breath, his growl as you tighten around him, it's all sending you into sensory overload.  
"Fuck, Hop, I'm gonna..." It's the closest you've come to a full sentence since he starting taking his clothes off, and he rewards you with a messy kiss before answering.  
"Come all over me, baby, I wanna feel it."  
He fucks you even harder, something you hadn't thought possible, and you hold your breath as your whole body tenses, his dick hitting that spot inside you over and over as you climb higher and higher, and then you reach the peak and you're screaming for him as ecstasy pulses through you in shattering waves.   
He's still moving inside you, but the rhythm is starting to falter as your inner muscles grasp greedily at his dick, trying to keep him in you, trying to draw the same pleasure out of him that he's giving to you.  
"Fuck, that's it." His voice is somewhere between a gasp and a groan, "You're gonna make me... Inside you or-”  
You answer by wrapping your legs around his waist, holding him deep within you, as he lets out a guttural howl and you feel the heat of his release inside you. His head drops onto your shoulder, and you manage to run a trembling hand over his hair. 

For a few moments there's no movement, no sound except your panting breaths. Sweat starts to cool on your skin, and you can feel the stickiness of your combined juices between your legs where he's still half inside you. His weight on you feels just as good as you always knew it would, even if it slightly restricts your breathing. 

He shifts to his elbows, raising his head and meeting your eyes. You aren't sure what you expected to see, but the answer is tenderness as he strokes a few strands of hair back from your flushed cheeks.   
"You okay?"   
For some reason the question makes you giggle, and although he looks slightly confused by your reaction, he chuckles alongside you.   
"Oh god, Hop," You've recovered your ability to speak, at long last. "I am so much more than okay."  
"Yeah, you are." He says, which doesn't completely make sense, but you know it's a compliment.   
He rolls over onto his back beside you with a groan, and immediately reaches to pull you close, your head pillowed on his shoulder as your thigh lands across his. You're so comfortable you never want to move again, even though you're sticky and sweaty and so is Hopper.

After a few seconds, you register a noise coming from elsewhere in the house, and Hopper stirs in response.  
"What the-"  
The oven timer only beeps louder as you answer. "That, Chief, would be time for dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought this would clear my head, but instead I just keep thinking about Hopper bending Reader over the dining table as a thank you for dinner... if your thoughts are going the same way, tell me in the comments, and maybe I'll write it!
> 
> DoB


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not up for dirty talking, possessive Hopper, then I'd step away now if I were you...

At Hopper's request, you put his flannel shirt back on while the two of you eat dinner. He dons jeans and a Henley from the overnight bag he brought with him, and despite the distraction of his hand running up and down your bare thigh while he forks food into his mouth one-handed, you're hungry enough to eat a healthy portion of the lasagne you'd made before he arrived. 

You don't talk about anything special, just your usual flow of conversation - his work, your work, local and national news - but there's a new level of intimacy that isn't just coming from his caresses of your skin. When you've both finished eating, you rise from the table to clear the plates, and Hopper immediately gets up to help you. He carries the lasagne dish into the kitchen while you place the plates in the sink and run water over them, intending to clean up properly later. Suddenly you feel warmth against your back, as Hopper cages you in against the sink, his hands on the countertops either side and his hips pressed against up against the curve of your behind.

"Thank you for dinner." He murmurs into your ear before planting a kiss on your neck. "It was delicious." He kisses you again, pulling the collar of your shirt aside to find more skin to sample. "Not as delicious as your pussy-" You let out a gasp at his words, "But then nothing is."  
"Anyone ever tell you you have a filthy mouth?" You ask, trying to pretend his words haven't caused an ache between your legs and a fresh surge of moisture.  
"You like my filthy mouth." His hand leaves the countertop and meanders down to the hem of your shirt. "My filthy mouth makes you wet."  
"Hopper!" You try to sound disapproving, but your breathlessness gives you away.  
"Admit it." He murmurs, as his hand cups between your legs over your panties. "You like my filthy mouth." His fingers start to stroke your folds through soaked cotton.  
You let out a groan of surrender, and he rewards you by sliding his other hand under your shirt and cupping your breast.  
"That's what I thought." He plants more kisses on your neck, fingers still teasing you. "Now I think I'm ready for dessert."  
"I made chocolate cake..." You begin, before realising with a shiver of anticipation that he's probably not talking about that.

"Aw, why did you tell me that?" His fingers stop moving, and he lets out a sigh. "Now I have to decide between eating cake and bending you over the table. No man should have to face that choice."  
You sputter with laughter even as you shudder with arousal. Hopper never ceases to surprise you, from his secret tenderness to his filthy mouth, from his superlative skills in the bedroom to his humorous teasing.  
"The table?" You ask, as his fingers start stroking you again, this time edging under your panties to touch bare flesh, making you suck in a quick breath.  
"Oh yeah. Perfect height." He suckles another kiss into your neck, harder, maybe even hard enough to leave a mark, a thought which starts your brain short circuiting again. "And I already got the preview."  
You flashback to him arriving when you were leaning over the bed, and the feel of those big hands on your hips.  
"You," He continues, "Bent over, wearing _my shirt_."  
There's something possessive about the way he likes you in his clothes, and possessive Hopper is even sexier than, well, every other kind of Hopper.  
"Yes." You murmur, and he growls with approval. This time he definitely leaves a mark on your neck as he sucks and nips at your skin. Possessive Hopper for sure.

He steps back, his hands leaving your body slowly, and you turn to face him.  
"Later," He tells you, "I'm going to want that cake."  
"It's yours." You say, and watch his pupils dilate. You have a funny feeling that isn't about the cake; a feeling that's only confirmed when he pulls you into his body and captures your lips in another one of his devouring kisses.  
Hopper tastes of lasagne, and the cigarette he smoked on the porch before dinner, but he also tastes like sin and promise. He always does. And somehow, even in these moments that are all about rough desire, the way he holds you makes you feel safe. You trust him. 

Which is why you don't hesitate when he finally pulls away and orders you to bend over the table. "And keep that shirt on."  
"Yes, Chief." You're sassing him just a little as you walk towards the table, but as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, he meets your gaze and very deliberately pulls his shirt off over his head. He knows exactly what that does to you, and you have to stop yourself from stumbling. Finding the cool wooden surface of the dining table with your palms is a steadying relief. 

His hands start on your shoulders, smoothing a path down your back, before they land on your hips. His fingers hook into the sides of your panties and start to draw them down your thighs. Your legs are already trembling, and Hopper's barely even touched you.  
"That's it, sweetheart." As your underwear hits the floor, he guides your legs apart. "Fuck, I want to be inside you." He palms the slick heat between your thighs and his groan sends a bolt of arousal through you. "You're still full of me from before."  
You only manage a whimper. He was right, his filthy mouth does all sorts of things to you. He pushes a thick finger into you, and you clench around it instinctively, making him groan again.  
"This might be quick." He mutters, before withdrawing his finger. You want to turn your head, but there's something so erotic about not quite knowing what's coming next, about trusting him with your body like this.  
His hand between your shoulder blades guides you down to rest on your elbows on the table top, and the next thing you feel is that same hand caressing your ass, while the sound of metal on fabric tells you he's undoing his jeans with his other hand. Then those big hands are back on your hips and you feel the head of his dick nudge against your entrance.  
"Ready, sweetheart?"

You answer by pressing back, meeting his thrust as he glides into you. Your mouth drops open, a high pitched sound escaping at the pleasure of being filled again. He doesn't ask this time, just starts moving hard and fast, the force of his movements jolting the table so that it quakes and squeaks in time with his thrusts. Your fingers scrabble for purchase on the shiny surface, his hands on your hips your only real anchor.  
"Fuck...yes..." He's grunting behind you, words falling from his lips that send jolts of electricity straight to your aching core. "So fucking tight... hot..." His dick is stroking over that magic spot inside you with every thrust, bringing you closer and closer to glorious oblivion.  
He suddenly grasps a handful of your shirt, pulling the fabric up and away from your skin, using it to pull you back onto him even harder. His thrusts are almost brutal now, his hips slamming against your ass, his dick reaching places inside you that burn and throb for him. Your fingers are curled into fists, your breath harsh pants, you're so fucking close...  
"Wearing my fucking shirt... Full of my fucking... _Mine_..."  
You wail as you come, unable to hold on for even a second longer. His dirty mouth, his strength and dominance, his goddamn possessiveness, it's all too much. He lets go of your shirt and holds your hips still, buried deep inside of you as your inner muscles grab at his dick, your whole body quaking at the force of your climax. He's coming too, you can feel him pulsing into you, your combined juices spilling down your thighs even while he's still inside you. It takes long moments before you're even conscious of the word that you're repeating over and over, moaning it against your arm, where your head has come to rest.  
"Yours... yours..." You only truly register the meaning when his head dips down, his lips nuzzling your ear as he murmurs his reply.  
"Goddamn right you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Okay. I think maybe a shower scene next, though whether that's gentle and playful or down and dirty, I haven't decided yet. Feel free to vote in the comments...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so first of all, I find smut a lot easier to write than fluff and/or feelings! (What does that say about me? Um...) But even bearing that in mind, this chapter kind of went in its own direction, and I've found it a bit of a tricky one. I think I'm happy with how it turned out, but I guess you'll let me know if you feel the same or not!!

"C'mere sweetheart." Hopper helps you raise your upper body from the table, your legs shaking as you stand, and pulls you into his arms. You nestle into him, your head resting on his bare chest, his racing heartbeat in your ear. He's pulled his jeans up, though the top button is still undone. He looks, there's no other way to say it, thoroughly fucked, and you're betting you do too. But then is there anything better than being thoroughly fucked by Jim Hopper? You doubt it.  
"You okay, baby?" His lips are against your hair, his arms tightly wrapped around you.  
"Yeah." You could really get to like him checking in like this afterwards. "Sticky." Your brain is clearly still a little fried if you're offering that up.  
He chuckles a little. "Yeah, that's fair."  
"I need a shower." You manage to articulate more clearly, and he gently palms your cheek and encourages you to look up at him.  
"How big is your shower?" He asks, those gorgeous blue eyes meeting yours. "Not sure I can trust you in there alone." The corner of his mouth twitches.   
"Its not tiny." You can't help but lick your lips at the thought of him naked with you in the shower. You haven't been able to get your hands on him nearly as much as you'd like.   
"Lead the way." 

Hopper insists on taking your shirt and bra off for you, and although he looks a little disappointed when you tell him to drop the shirt in the laundry basket, he doesn't argue. He drops his own clothing straight to the floor, and sets about getting the shower running at a good temperature. There's something about the way he wants to take care of you after fucking you senseless that makes you melt. And that's before you allow yourself to start thinking about his possessive words of earlier.   
"Come on, sweetheart." He beckons you into the shower, and you step under the spray with him. It's a pretty tight fit, but that doesn't bother you; the warm water feels heavenly, and sharing it with Hopper even more so. Even though you're perfectly capable of washing yourself, you don't object when he lathers up soap and starts to smooth it over your skin. You know he doesn't think you're incapable, he just wants to do this for you. The look of concentration on his face creates a tight feeling in your chest, and you step right into his body and wrap your arms around his neck, which of course covers his skin in soap bubbles.

He snorts with laughter, "Good way of sharing. I like it." He takes the opportunity to run soapy hands down your back and give your ass a squeeze, and you return the favour - trying not to let your eyes roll back in your head at the feel of Hopper's extremely fine butt. There's just a little heat in his gaze as he looks down at you, so you reluctantly remove your hands and flick him with soapy water instead.   
His mouth settles into a firm line. "Really?" But there's that telltale twitch at the corner of his lips that betrays him just as he flicks water right back at you. It's too small a space for any kind of real impact, but you flick him again, and this time he grabs your hands and pins them behind your back, grinning down at you.   
"Trust me, you won't win a water fight with me."  
"Give me a water pistol out in the yard and I'll prove you wrong." You tell him, and you both laugh.  
"It's a date." Hopper gently releases you and plants a brief kiss on your lips. "Want help washing your hair?"   
As tempted as you are, you shake your head slightly. "I can do it." The last thing you want is for him to see you as needy, even if the idea of him doing it for you makes you want to purr.   
"I know you can. I'm just offering."   
Screw it. You hand him the shampoo bottle and turn around to give him full access to your hair. You were expecting him to take an efficient approach, but although he's certainly thorough, he also takes his time, gently untangling a few snarls. You can't help a little moan of pleasure as he massages your scalp with his fingers, and you hear his sharp intake of breath at the sound. You know you could turn around, jump into his arms and make this all kinds of carnal if you wanted, but right now you don't want that. You want to revel in this moment of intimacy and care. 

"Turn around, sweetheart, get rinsing." You do as you're told as his hands leave your head, with the bonus of being able to watch through half closed eyes as Hopper works some of the remaining shampoo bubbles through his own hair as you rinse yours.   
"I could have done that for you." You tell him, and he grins.  
"Next time. Hey, let me get under there a minute?"  
You shift enough for him to stick his head under the spray and slick water through his hair. He steps back and shakes off, reminding you of nothing so much as a dog coming out of a lake.   
"What?" He asks when you giggle, and you straighten your face.  
"Nothing, Hop."   
"Hmm." He looks suspicious, in a teasing kind of way, but lets it go. "How about I get us set for bed while you finish doing whatever it is you do in here that makes you look as good as you do."  
You can't help another small giggle at that, and he plants a quick kiss on your lips. 

Once Hopper's left the bathroom, taking his clothes with him, you give yourself another quick wash down, wincing at a few sore muscles, and a little tenderness between your thighs. No wonder, after the evening's activities. You don't bother with blow drying your hair, blotting out as much water as you can with a towel before wrapping another around your body. You do brush your teeth though. 

When you get back to the bedroom, you swallow at the sight before you. Hopper's finished making the bed - the task he distracted you from when he arrived - with pillows and comforter and your old, soft plaid blanket. The overhead light is off, the lamp on the nightstand casting a soft glow instead. But what really brings a lump to your throat is that he's laid another of his flannel shirts on the bed for you.  
"In case you get cold." He tells you, as he sees your eyes fall on it. He's wearing his boxers and a t-shirt, and his expression is just a tiny bit tentative.   
"I-" You start, but once again Hopper seems to have stolen your ability to form sentences, this time from his unexpected sweetness rather than his impressive sexual skills.   
He steps close and pulls you into his arms, keeping his eyes on yours. "What's going on in your head?"  
It wasn't a question you were really expecting to hear from him. You know he cares about you, he demonstrates that all the time, and you've had plenty of deep and involved conversations, but never about your feelings. Those were always just kind of off limits for discussion.   
"Nothing. This is just nice." You take a breath and risk it, "I didn't expect this part, maybe."  
He frowns, "You thought I was going to get up and leave after?" His grip tightens on your waist. "You been listening to local gossip or something?"  
"No!" You have, of course, heard things about him, but whether it made you naive or just hopeful, you hadn't ever thought that his past preference for one night stands would apply to you. "You're just... I didn't have you figured for this, that's all."  
"This?" The frown isn't quite as deep, but it's still there.   
You shrug, struggling to articulate your feelings in a way he'll understand. "You're a big, tough guy, you know? I didn't think that would go with washing my hair and making sure I'm warm enough."  
His eyes absolutely bore into yours. "I take care of the people I love. Always. Whatever they need." His voice cracks very slightly, though his expression remains fierce. "Even when that isn't enough."

You swallow hard. You know what happened to his daughter, of course, and about his divorce. You know those are some of his deepest scars. But your mind is still stuck on his choice of words. Hopper's clearly registered what he said too, and as he makes to step back you realise he might be misinterpreting your lack of response.   
They aren't easy words for you. But you feel it, god, you feel it every time you look at him. These months of getting to know each other, slowly building trust, building this fragile and beautiful connection between you... But with him not having yet let you meet his adopted daughter, and knowing there are secrets still lurking, you'd accepted that his feelings might not be as strong as yours, or that he might not be where you are. In fact, you'd tried to accept that he might never get to where you are. So hearing him say otherwise is just a shock. 

All of this flashes through your mind in the second that he starts to pull away from you, but there's no time for a complicated explanation. You instinctively know that in this moment there's only one way to reassure him that his words were the right ones.  
"I love you too."  
His eyes flick straight back to yours. "You do?"  
You nod, and he drops his head to kiss you, not the carnal kisses of earlier, something more tender, caressing.   
"Wasn't planning it." He tells you, when your lips part. "But you're just... different. Something special."  
"So are you." You say, because it's true. "But I wasn't looking for it either."  
He smiles down at you, and your heart feels full. "C'mon. Let's go to bed." 

You swap your towel for his shirt, of course, and climb into the bed and straight into his arms. You wouldn't have thought you could sleep, too wired from everything that's happened this evening, but as soon as you snuggle into Hopper's frame, it's like all the energy drains out of you.   
"Sleep, baby." He kisses the top of your head. "It's okay."  
And that's the last thing you register before your eyes crash shut and you fall asleep with your head pillowed on Hopper's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go! I feel like there's a couple more chapters, maybe, because morning sex and also because feelings, but let me know what you guys are thinking about this!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love mornings, don't you? ;-)

You wake up to an empty bed, your hand reaching out and encountering nothing but cool sheets. When you blink your eyes open and look around the room, you see Hopper's bag is still in the corner, his hat resting on the dresser, so presumably he hasn't run off during the night. Wincing just a little from tight muscles, you stand up and grab the blanket as an extra layer on top of Hopper's flannel shirt, and pad through the house looking for him, spotting him through the window as he stands on the porch finishing a cigarette. Pushing your feet into your boots, you brave the chill morning air to join him.

His expression seems stern and far away, but when he hears your footsteps and turns, his grin immediately breaks through.   
"That is a very nice outfit."   
You glance down at yourself and make a face. "Morning after chic?"  
Hopper laughs and reaches out a hand for you, drawing you in to stand beside him, his arm tight around you. "Beautiful out here."  
You look out across the landscape. "That's why I took the falling down house in the middle of nowhere."   
"I'd still say it was a good decision, if you’d remember to lock your damn door."  
"Hey, I have the Chief of Police to protect me, right?"  
"Right." He picks up a mug of coffee from the rail and offers it to you. "Still hot."  
You take a grateful sip, "Mornings are for coffee and contemplation?" He’d told you his little mantra on your first not-quite-a-date.  
"Yes they are." He kisses your hair, and you tilt your face up towards him so he can plant one on your lips instead.  
"What are you contemplating this morning?"  
"You, mostly." He leans down and kisses you again. "That isn't a line, I promise."  
"What were you thinking about me?"  
"Oh, there were a few things."  
You give him a look. "Including?"  
He looks out at the view again. "I think you should meet my daughter. I think it's going to be weird as hell, but I'm hoping you'll get along okay."   
You can't speak for a moment, so you just snuggle in closer and hope he gets the message. When you do find your voice you ask, "Does she know about me?"  
"Yeah, some. I told her a few weeks ago. She knows I'm with you right now."   
"What does she think?"  
"She asked if you were nice. I said you were very nice. She said good. She's not all that talkative."  
"That okay, I'll take it." You tell him, your heart racing a little. 

"You want to know what else I was thinking about you?" He begins, gently stroking your hair back, then as he exposes your neck he audibly sucks in a breath.   
"What?"  
"Shit." He mumbles, running his finger gently over your skin. "I might have left you a couple souvenirs yesterday."  
"You gave me hickeys?" You remember him kissing your neck as he whispered dirty words in your ear, and heat floods to your centre.   
"Looks like it." His eyes search yours for a reaction.  
You swallow, keeping your eyes on his, as you tell him the truth. "I kind of like it."  
He lets out a low growl, his eyes darkening. "You do?"  
"You're possessive." The words leave your mouth without too much thought, but judging by the way he pulls you tight into his body, he doesn't mind.  
"And you like that." It isn't a question, but you nod anyway. 

There's a beat, in which you just look at each other, the breath catching in your throat, and then he moves, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss even as his hands on your waist lift you with sudden force, and your legs wrap around his hips on instinct. Your squeak of surprise is lost in his mouth, and he carries you back towards the house, stumbling a little before accepting the need to break the kiss.  
"Steady, baby." He murmurs, and you hold on tight as he takes you straight to the bedroom, dropping you onto the bed.

You toe off your boots and start on the buttons of your shirt, as he sheds his jeans and Henley. As soon as you're both naked, he crawls over you and captures your mouth in another searing kiss. You whimper at the glorious feeling of being naked under Hopper, a thrill you're pretty sure will never get old.   
"Mine." He growls into your ear, and you shudder with pleasure, even before his hand finds your breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. When he lowers his mouth to your other breast and uses his tongue there, it's all you can do not to cry out, your hand grasping the back of his head, willing him on. He isn't gentle, sucking and nipping and adding just a tiny hint of pain to the overwhelming pleasure, and you can't get enough of it. 

You make a sound of protest when he releases your breasts and moves down your body, but the complaint dies on your lips as his tongue greedily plunges between your legs. Hopper's groan as he realises how wet you are for him is a sound you can't imagine ever tiring of, and nor is his voice repeating that word again...  
"Mine." He pushes a thick finger into you, his lips sucking relentlessly on your clit as he strokes that magic spot inside you with his finger, and it's almost embarassing how quickly you find yourself coming to the edge.  
"Yours." You gasp, as shivers run through your body, racing towards your centre, where your belly is tightening and your thighs are squeezing Hopper's shoulders. You feel his growl of approval as a vibration against your sensitive flesh, and it's enough to tip you over into a gasping orgasm, your back arching as heat floods your body and you struggle for breath. 

You're still in the throes as Hopper draws back and climbs over you again, holding your legs wide as he drives deep into your clenching pussy, dragging over that place inside you in a way that brings another wave of pleasure. He doesn't start to move, just stays embedded within you as your muscles grasp and grab around his thick, hard length. His thumb finds your clit with just the lightest touch, and you buck upwards involuntarily, the sounds coming out of your mouth unintelligible, as you ride out the longest, strongest, climax of your life. 

It finally starts to ebb, your skin no longer on fire, the world coming back into focus, and your eyes land on Hopper, kneeling between your legs, buried deep inside you, his body visibly full of tension.   
"Fuck me." You rasp, because even though another round like that might kill you, it would be a hell of a way to go.   
His big hands grip your thighs, and he pulls back, both of you groaning as his withdraws, and then again as he drives right back in. There's nothing gentle or subtle about the way he takes you, he's chasing his own pleasure now, and just watching him above you, his head thrown back as he relentlessly fucks you, is almost enough to pull another orgasm from your hypersensitive body. He gives one last, powerful thrust, his hands bruisingly tight on your thighs, and then holds you there as he lets out that primal sound that signifies his climax, filling you again. 

You don't take your eyes off him, watching his muscles start to soften, his eyes opening, the slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth.  
"You okay, sweetheart?"   
This time the question brings a lump to your throat. How is it possible for him to be so demanding and possessive one moment, and so tender the next?  
"I'm good." You manage, as he gently pulls out of you, his eyes dropping to look between your legs. You have a sudden urge to cover up, but the look on his face gives you pause.   
"Fuck." You see him swallow, "I don't think I could ever get tired of seeing you full of me." His voice is low and gravelly, and you wonder how words so dirty could also sound so... sweet?

He slowly shifts to lay down next to you, pulling you into his arms, chest to chest, your faces close together. He kisses you softly.   
"I meant what I said last night." He kisses you again, featherlight, "I love you, baby."  
"I love you too, Hop." The words come more easily this time, and you follow them with another kiss.   
"I have an idea." He murmurs.  
"What?" You murmur back.  
"Chocolate cake for breakfast?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do we go from here? I have no clear idea at the moment, so feel free to throw me any thoughts you might have!
> 
> DoB x


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am supposed to be writing a research proposal. Instead I'm writing possessive, dirty talking, hot as hell Hopper. And I can't even feel sorry about it.

You do have chocolate cake for breakfast, eaten in bed because neither of you can see any benefit in putting clothes back on again. After cake, you cuddle under the blankets and unsurprisingly one thing leads to another, and you enjoy one more round of deeply satisfying sex before Hopper has to go collect his daughter. He kisses you goodbye through the open window of his truck, and you wave him off, standing in your muddy driveway in just his shirt and your boots. Morning after chic indeed.

But over the next couple of weeks, your night together becomes more and more like a dream as real life kicks in with a vengeance. Sure, you manage to grab coffee together a handful of times, and even a couple of snatched dinners, but between a crime spree (by Hawkins standards) and a demanding time at your own job, on top of the usual restrictions imposed by Hopper being a parent, there's opportunity for nothing more.

Hopper likes to bring back the memories by whispering in your ear, usually just before you have to part. Sometimes he's creative, "If we were alone, I'd bend you over that table right now...", but he knows that even a swift growl of "Mine..." is enough to have your panties flooded and your face flushed. The hickeys have faded, but his possessiveness remains in evidence, and he never fails to tell you he loves you when you say goodbye. After your night together, though, snatched moments and dirty words just aren't enough. You miss him in your house, in your bed. You miss his big body blanketing yours, the way he feels inside you, and his tenderness afterwards. Even using your damn shower just makes you think of him washing your hair. 

So when he calls you one night, three weeks after your sleepover, you're torn between joy at hearing from him and frustration that he isn't here in your living room.  
"Hey, sweetheart."  
"Hey, Hop." You know you sound kind of flat, but you can't help it.  
"What's going on? Bad day?"  
You attempt a snort, but it comes out a little closer to a sob. You swallow it down, but then decide to just be honest. "I miss my boyfriend. We had an incredible night together, and we've hardly seen each other since."  
"I know." He sounds sad, heavy. "Believe me, I know."  
"What are we going to do, Hop? It was okay before, but since that night, I just want..."  
He chuckles slightly, "Oh, I remember how many different ways that sentence can end."  
You gasp, heat rushing through you as you recall him supplying your words for you in increasingly filthy detail. "Hopper!"  
"What?" His voice lowers, "You like my filthy mouth, remember?"  
"Hop..." But if you're honest, it's more of a token protest this time.  
"My filthy mouth makes you wet. Are you wet right now?"  
Part of you wants to rein this back in, to have a serious conversation about your relationship. But the bigger part is screaming with frustrated need, and it's that part that whimpers down the phone as you reply. "Yes."  
"How do you know? Is your hand in your panties?"  
"No..." You answer honestly, even as your palm smoothes down over your belly, heading in just that direction.  
"You sure about that?"  
Screw it. You slip your hand under the waistband of your underwear, reaching between your legs, and your gasp at the contact must be a giveaway.  
"Yeah, sweetheart. Feel good?" His voice is low and deep, and with your eyes closed you can almost imagine he's here with you.  
"Yes." You breathe, sliding your fingers over your clit, trying to pretend it's him touching you.  
"Fuck, the things I want to do to you." The mixture of heat and frustration in his tone only turns you on more. "I miss the taste of your pussy. So fucking sweet. And the way you grip my fingers when I push them inside you."  
You act on his words, sliding two fingers into your soaked pussy, imagining they're his, as he continues to talk.  
"You look so fucking beautiful when you're taking me, you know that?"  
You can only summon a whimper in response, your fingers working over your clit again.  
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Come for me like you do when I'm eating you out."  
Your fingers move faster on your clit, the pressure building in your centre. It's not as intense as it is when Hopper's really there, but it still feels pretty damn good. You let your little moans spill out, and he growls in response.  
"That's it, baby. Come for me, sweetheart. Come for me, 'cause you're mine."  
That does it, of course. A final flick of your fingers sends you over the edge, a tremor passing through you as your eyes squeeze shut and you gasp out, “Yours.” 

"Stay right there." Hopper's tone changes abruptly, and the next thing you hear is the dial tone. Pulling yourself upright on the couch, disoriented and confused, you have to suppress a sob. What the hell? You remove your hand from your underwear and unthinkingly wipe your fingers against your panties. What just happened? You swallow, trying to clear your head. You kind of want to be mad, but that sudden ending was too unsettling. Did something happen? You guessed he'd been in his office, so maybe someone came in...?

Speculating isn't going to get you far, so you think about getting up and getting a glass of water instead, but you need your legs to stop trembling first. Which is why you're still sitting on the couch when a uniformed Hopper bursts through your front door five minutes later.

He doesn't give you a chance to speak, as he drops to his knees in front of the couch and takes your head in both big hands, bringing your mouth to his. The kiss feels desperate as well as devouring, and with the few shreds of coherent thought you can muster, you wonder just how fast he had to drive to cover the distance between the station and your home this quickly. 

When you're forced to pause for breath, he looks right into your eyes.  
"Couldn't stay away after hearing that."  
You nod frantically, and he covers your mouth with his again, his tongue plunging deep, claiming you.  
At the next pause he adds, "I really shouldn't be here. I'm supposed to be on duty all night."  
"How long do you have?" You ask, and then kick yourself because no man can resist that question.  
Hopper grins, glances down at the sizeable tent in his pants, and opens his mouth to answer.  
"Oh, at least-" But you cut him off with another kiss as you start undoing his belt. 

It's frantic and messy. Neither of you fully undresses. Instead you simply clear a path, your panties flying across the room as his pants and boxers fall around his ankles. The couch is really too small to accommodate you both comfortably, but somehow you manage, your leg dangling over the side as Hopper fits himself between your thighs. He palms the slickness at your centre, checking you're ready to take him, and that small act of care almost brings tears to your eyes. The contrast between his size and dominance and his tender concern for you always does that. But then he notches himself at your entrance and drives deep, your head falls back, and you lose the ability to think about anything other than the glide of him inside you, his weight on top of you, his voice in your ear.

"So fucking hot... so fucking tight... taking me so good..."  
You wish you could manage to articulate more than moans and affirmations, but you can't. Despite the limitations of the couch, Hopper manages to fill you so deep and fuck you so hard that coherent speech is definitely beyond you. It's thankful that he isn't similarly affected, because his words are making a significant contribution to the tight heat gathering in your belly and thighs.  
"Wanna hear you scream for me, baby... Gonna fill you up... Want you to feel me for days..."  
Your breath is caught in your chest, you're so close to unravelling, and he knows it too, shifting just a little so that he can drive even harder, and then the tension snaps and you're giving him exactly what he asked for, a keening cry that starts as his name and then becomes something incoherent as his thrusts falter and cease and he spills himself inside you with a guttural groan that you'll probably fantasise about for days to come. 

You're both sticky, sweaty and still half dressed, cramp starting in your thigh from the uncomfortable couch, but you've never felt more satisfied in your life.  
Hopper nuzzles a kiss against your neck before planting another on your lips. "You okay, baby?"  
"Mmm." You steal another kiss before a shooting pain in your thigh makes you form words. "Ow, leg, got to-"  
He hastily shifts upwards so you can free your pelvis and alleviate the ache. "Did I hurt you?" His question is urgent and married with a look of real concern.  
"No! The couch decided to fight back right then, that's all." You reassure him, and he gives you a half smile.  
"Should have taken you to bed."  
"It was perfect." You counter, meeting his eyes. "But I'm guessing you have to go?"  
He rakes a hand through his hair. "Yeah. And I feel like an asshole right now."  
"It's okay." You pull your shirt closed, suddenly feeling vulnerable, wrapping your arms around yourself.  
"Hey." He brings a finger under your chin, raising your head to make you look at him. "This isn't a quick recreational fuck on my break, okay? I've been going out of my mind not getting proper time with you. This was probably selfish, and for that I'm sorry, but I love you, okay?"  
There is nothing but absolute sincerity in his eyes, and you relax. The situation kind of sucks, but as long as it sucks for both of you, you can handle it.  
"What time do you get off?" You ask.  
"Maybe 5am if things go to plan. El's sleeping over at her friend's house. I can crash for a few hours then right back to work." It's only now that you see how exhausted he looks.  
"You could crash here?" You offer impulsively.  
"You'd actually let me get some sleep?" He asks with a slight smile.  
"I promise." You smile back.  
"Well, lock the goddamn door - because don't think I didn't notice - and I'll knock when I get off, as long as that won't scare you."  
"Better idea..." You push off the couch and walk on slightly wobbly legs to the table by the door. "Spare keys." You hand them over, and the look on his face almost has you tearing up. "Let yourself in, but make sure you call out that it's you. I sleep with a gun."  
"No you don't." He says confidently, and you concede with a laugh.  
"Okay, I don't, but I do have a baseball bat under the bed. I don't want to clobber you by accident."  
"I'll take my chances." 

And that's how it comes to be that just after 5am you half-wake to the sound of the shower, then a few minutes later Hopper dropping his clothes on your bedroom floor, before climbing into bed and wrapping himself around you from behind, his slightly damp chest to your back, his big frame enveloping yours.  
"Sleep, baby." He tells you, his voice slurred with tiredness. And so you do just that, blanketed in his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next... probably a naughty wake up call and some sweet, slow, loving. Sound good? Let me know! 
> 
> DoB xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopper's alive!! Can we all take a moment to bask in the sheer joy of that fact?? He's alive, people! And he's still looking damn fine, even with the shaved head. 
> 
> Anyway, the news spurred me on to finish this chapter in double quick time, so here you go!

You wake up with Hopper sprawled out on his back next to you, snoring lightly. There's something weirdly comforting about the sound, though given how much space he takes up when he sleeps, you're glad you sprung for the king sized bed. Judging by the light filtering through the curtains, it's still early, but unlike Hopper you've had a full night's sleep.

You take the opportunity to study him. His face is softer in sleep, and the thrown back blankets reveal his broad chest and strong arms. Probably helped by his coming to bed straight after a quick shower, his bed hair is spectacular. You can't help but smile to yourself. You love this man, and he loves you right back. Despite all the complications, and the secrets he's still keeping, Hopper might be the best thing that's ever happened to you. 

Moving slowly to avoid waking him, you draw the sheets back a little further, tracing your eyes over his soft middle, then lower still. Honestly, you could look at your man all day long. Glancing back to his face, you can see he's still asleep, but you know any minute he'll wake up and have to leave, back to being the Chief. And then you have an idea for the perfect wake up call. 

You let the blankets rest on his thighs, as you carefully kneel beside him and slowly lower your head. Your tongue traces a gentle path along his dick, and you feel it start to harden even from that featherlight touch. A quick look up reveals that Hopper's still sleeping, so you risk another lick, a little firmer this time, and are rewarded by him hardening further, enough for you to close your mouth around the head and start to suck, keeping the pressure light. 

He stirs, a hand reaching instinctively towards his groin, and you look up at his face without ceasing your movements, because you want to see the second he wakes. His fingers touch your hair, and that's when you get a glimpse of those blue eyes half opening as his hand closes on the back of your head and a groan leaves his mouth.   
"Wha-"  
Keeping your mouth wrapped around the head of his dick, you keep your eyes on his as you take him deeper, and he gasps in a breath.  
"Baby... Fuck..."

He's fully awake now, and fully hard, so you use your hand at the base of his dick as your mouth works the head. Hopper is communicating solely in grunts and moans, and you realise you've finally found a way to rob him of speech, which is nice considering he can do that to you so easily. 

"Wait..." He manages then, and you pause for a second. "Don't wanna... Get up here." His voice is raspy, but his hand on your head, gently tugging you back, is insistent.   
Reluctantly, you release your mouth from him. "Hop, this is your wake up call."  
He lets out a long shaky breath. "Believe me, I'm awake. Now get up here."

You move to lay beside him, wondering for a brief second if you did something he didn't like, but the way he leans over and kisses you tells you otherwise. The kiss starts slow and soft, but as it deepens Hopper gently pushes you onto your back, bringing himself over you. 

"You just like to be in charge." You tell him, almost grumbling, when his lips finally leave yours.   
"You can take charge sometime." He counters. "Judging by my wake up call, I'd enjoy that a lot."  
"Then why...?"  
"Because we don't have a lot of time, and when I was driving over here this morning, I realised there was something I hadn't done, and I want to fix that." He looks so serious, you can't help a frown of your own.  
"What is it?"  
But he shakes his head slightly and kisses you again, his hand stroking your skin, teasing your breast with light touches.   
"Hop-"  
"Shush." His tone is gentle but firm, and since his hand is moving lower, you decide to give in gracefully. 

You widen your legs instinctively to give him access, and he doesn't disappoint, stroking your clit with his fingers before slowly pushing one inside you, then back to your clit again. You can't remember doing slow with him before, and you kind of like it. His kisses move to your neck, your jaw, before coming back to your mouth. Your hands smooth over his shoulders, feeling the strong muscles under his skin, whimpering at the feel of his body against yours almost as much as at the touch of his hand between your thighs. 

He slides a second finger inside you, his thick digits stretching you open, his thumb lightly stroking your clit. You buck your hips into his hand, and he chuckles softly.  
"You need more, sweetheart?"  
"I need you." You tell him, and he smiles before kissing you again as he gently withdraws his hand and moves over you, your thighs cradling his hips.  
"I need you too, baby, more than you know." And hearing him say those words creates a fresh surge of arousal where his dick is pressing against you, easing his entrance into your body.

He pushes in slowly, so slowly you can feel every inch of him as he fills you. Normally he'd be saying something filthy right about now, but instead he just looks into your eyes, locking his gaze with yours as your bodies come together. It's so intimate it's almost frightening, but you trust Hopper, you realise, right down to the bones. You're safe with him.

Maybe he sees that in your eyes, because once he's fully sheathed inside you, he drops his head and kisses you again, before he starts to move. And when he does start, it's not the usual hard and satisfying thrusts, but a slow glide, one that allows more kisses without fear of an accidental head butt. Which is satisfying in a whole different way.

When Hopper brings his mouth to your ear, you're expecting some of his trademark filth, but instead you get something different.  
"You're so beautiful."   
The unexpected words make you gasp. Of course he pays you compliments, but during sex they're normally a lot more carnal.   
"You feel so right under me..." He's deepening his thrusts just a little, but as his hand works its way under you to cradle your ass, tilting your hips into his, it's clear he's not going to pound you into the mattress this morning.

If he'd asked before now, you would have told him that slow didn't do it for you, that you needed hard and fast. But you're rapidly changing your mind as that slow glide drags over the sensitive spot inside you over and over, and the close press of his body against yours overwhelms your senses. His smell, his taste... it's like you're completed surrounded by Hopper, you can't see or feel anything else, and you don't want to. 

Little gasps and moans are spilling from your lips now, your skin heating and that familiar pressure building in your centre.  
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" He murmurs, and you manage to gasp a reply for once.  
"Yes!"  
"You feel so good, baby, so right..." He meets your eyes again, "I love you, sweetheart."  
His words makes you clench around his dick involuntarily, and he groans.   
"I love you." He says again, still thrusting slow and deep into your willing body, and this time you muster the ability to say it back.  
"I love you too, Hop."  
He smiles and kisses you, gentle and slow. "You can use my actual name from time to time, you know." He offers with a slight chuckle, his eyes back on yours. 

You can't remember ever having sex like this before, so open and intimate, so connected. Despite the insistent gathering of heat in your belly, the telltale tingling in your thighs, you don't want it to end, even though you do want to come.   
"It's okay," He tells you, as though he knows, which he probably does, "Come for me, baby."   
The whispery rasp of his voice, the weight of his body on yours, the rightness of him deep inside you, it's all too much, and the wave breaks over you almost against your will. Fire spreads through your limbs, detonating in your centre, your pussy clenching tight to keep him within you as you shatter.   
"Jim..." Your voice sounds far away, but if you can hear it, then you're sure he can too, "Jim... oh god..."  
"I've got you, sweetheart." His own voice is a groan, "Got you, love you... Fuck..." And you feel the shudder of his body as he surrenders to his own climax. 

You're almost afraid to open your eyes when the feelings in your body start to ebb and you regain some control of your limbs. When you do risk it, it's to find him looking right back at you.  
"Hey, sweetheart, you okay?"  
To your embarrassment, tears form in your eyes. How can you explain what you feel right now? But Hopper just gathers you up in his arms, rolling onto his side and bringing you with him so he can cradle you against his body. You clutch at him, trying to stay as close as you can.  
"It's okay, baby." He's murmuring reassuringly in your ear, and it's only the fact that he doesn't seem uncomfortable with this that allows you to look up at him again.   
"Sorry, I-"  
He stops you with the softest kiss. "Don't be sorry."  
"That was intense." You whisper.  
"It was." He agrees, his thumb stroking away the tears from your cheeks. "Knew it would be."  
"What you said... About what you hadn't done...?"  
You swear he blushes, but to his credit his gaze doesn't leave yours. "That. We hadn't done that." He pauses for just a second before continuing, "Made love."   
Now it's your turn to blush. You guess he's right.   
"When I came over last night," He continues, "That was selfish-"  
"It was amazing." You counter, and he grins briefly.  
"It was, but it made me realise, that's all. You deserve me to show you love the other way, too."  
The tears are threatening to make another appearance, so you press your face into his chest for a moment, and he strokes a hand over your hair. 

"I'm not going to work this morning," He tells you, "Someone else can shovel the shit for a change."  
You look up in surprise. Hopper never, ever, blows off work. He leans down and kisses you.   
"What are you going to do instead?" You ask, hoping the answer will involve you.  
"I'm going to get another couple hours sleep, preferably holding my woman, then I'm going to fetch my daughter and take you both out for pancakes. How's that sound?"  
It turns out that he can render you speechless in more ways than you realised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you get excited, I'm probably not going to write breakfast, because I haven't got a clue how to write El/Jane. But there will be more of this story, nonetheless!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave it a go... please be gentle, I've never written Jane/El before. Or any kids, for that matter!

Hopper wasn't kidding when he told you his daughter wasn't that talkative. But Jane, or El as she seems to be nicknamed at times, has a sweet smile, and an even sweeter tooth. As you all eat pancakes at the diner, she mainly listens to you and Hop talking, and when you tease him a little she smiles in what seems to be approval. She even giggles when you point out a few beads of syrup in his beard. 

Hopper holds your hand under the table, or strokes your thigh, making sure to keep contact with you at all times. You're not sure if he's even aware he's doing it, but it feels reassuring, especially after this morning's intense lovemaking. Your jitters at meeting his daughter eventually begin to subside, even if you don’t quite feel brave enough to try to initiate a conversation with Jane directly. 

When every last bite of pancake has been eaten, and Jane has chased every trace of syrup from her plate, Hop sighs.  
"I'd better get to the station and check in." He's wearing his slightly crumpled uniform from yesterday. "You can hang out with Flo, kiddo."   
Jane's face falls, "Mike?"  
"They're visiting family today. That's why you couldn't sleep over there last night."   
You hide a smirk at that. One thing you know is that Hopper prefers his daughter in the safe hands of Joyce Byers for sleepovers, even if Jane would rather be at the Wheelers'. You've heard quite a bit about Hop's suspicions concerning young Mike Wheeler and his intentions towards Jane.   
"Home? TV?" Jane suggests next.   
Hopper runs a hand over his face, "I don't have time to drive you home first. I'll just be a few hours at the station, then we can go home and watch TV."  
Jane doesn't reply to that, but her face tells you both everything you need to know. 

Before you let your better judgement take over, you offer, "I could drive Jane home." You haven't been to Hopper's place before, but you know it's out in the woods on the other side of town from your house.  
"Thank you, sweetheart, but it's not easy to find. Jane will be fine with me at the station."  
Jane looks up at you, "Do you have TV?" She asks, and you laugh.  
"Yes, of course."  
She looks at Hopper and then back at you, her meaning quickly becoming clear.   
"Um-" You both begin at the same time, then stop.   
"You go." Hop says after a second.   
You take a deep breath, "I have some chores to do, but if you want to hang out at my place and watch TV while your Dad's at work, that's fine with me."  
Jane gives you one of her sweet smiles, and Hopper squeezes your thigh so hard you'll probably bruise.   
"Thank you." He says quietly. "I'll just be a few hours."

Hopper drops you both back at your house, and Jane immediately makes a beeline for the couch and TV. You watch her for a few moments as she selects a show and settles in.  
"Do you want something to drink?" You ask.  
"No, thank you." She says, her attention staying on the TV.   
"I'm just going to..." You gesture vaguely to the kitchen and this time she does look up briefly.   
"Okay."

You slowly start on your standard Saturday clean up routine. You try to keep the house tidy in general, but especially when work is busy it's easy to let it slip. The living room is the centre of the one storey house, so you have to pass through it to reach the other rooms: kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and the spare bedroom you use as a workspace. Luckily that gives you plenty of opportunities to check on Jane without being obvious. She sits on the couch, her shoes neatly placed on the floor beside it and her legs drawn up so she can rest her chin on her knees as she watches TV. 

Hop hasn't told you that much about how he came to adopt her. He explained that she'd been caught up in a case he'd worked, and as she had no family and the two of them had kind of hit it off, he'd been able to adopt her, but when you'd tried to ask more he'd brushed it off. She's very quiet, but she definitely seems happy with Hop, so you guess she's adjusting okay. 

Once you get the house clean, you let Jane know that you're heading outside to check on the yard.   
"You want to come outside, or you want to keep the TV company in here?"   
She gives you one of those smiles. "TV."  
"Okay then."  
But as you turn to head outside, she speaks again.  
"You like him?"  
You turn back around, your stomach lurching a little. "Your dad?"   
She nods.  
"I love him." You say simply. You have a feeling Jane does better with direct answers.  
"Good." She turns back to the TV, and you slowly make your way out to the yard.

Well, it's not so much a yard as the one side of the house that isn't closely surrounded by trees. The wider side of the wrap around porch looks out over the barren space, and then beyond to fields and more trees in the distance. It's the view Hopper noticed on his first morning here, and the one that made you choose the falling down house at the edge of the woods instead of something sensible in town. 

You're determined to make the yard something more than dirt, so you've added a few rows of seedlings, and have a vague thought about growing vegetables, except you have no idea where to start with that. The plants are doing fine, the soil sufficiently moist from the recent rain, so you take a moment to sit down on the porch steps and breathe in today's sunshine. Spring is in the air, you swear you can smell it on days like this. 

So that's where Hopper finds you, looking out at the view while his daughter sits contentedly on your couch, glued to your TV. He steps onto the porch behind you, crouching to wrap his arms around you as you turn.   
"Hey, baby."  
"Hey. You're earlier than I expected."  
He kisses you softly, and sits down beside you. "Turns out the place doesn't actually collapse into anarchy when I'm not there."   
"Really? Shocking!" You joke and he grins.  
"Has she been okay?" He gestures towards the house.  
"She's been fine. She really loves TV, huh?"   
"She really does. I think it helps with her speech, though, so..." He looks serious for a moment, then seems to shake himself out of it. "I think she likes you."  
"I hope so." You pause, "She asked if I like you."  
"What did you say?"  
"I told her I love you. Is that okay?"  
The tenderness in his face makes you suck in a breath. "Well, I told her I love you last week, so I guess she was testing you."   
Your mouth drops open a little with shock, before you giggle. "Guess I passed, at least!"  
He chuckles too, "Guess you did. C'mere." He wraps his arm around you and bends his head to kiss you. It starts off slow, but as his tongue strokes against yours, the kiss gets deeper and hotter. By the time you break apart, panting a little, his eyes are dark with arousal. 

"Her friends are probably at the arcade by now." He says. "I could drop her there and come back."  
You nod frantically.   
"Okay. Gimme twenty minutes. But if the other kids aren't there, I'll have to go home with her, okay? I'm sorry.”  
"It's okay. You're a dad. I understand." And you do, even as you pray for Jane's friends to be at that arcade.

Jane gives you a sweet smile of goodbye, and you wave her and Hopper off. You don't want to get your hopes up too much for his return, but then you decide to hell with it, your hopes can survive the odd disappointment, and start to prepare instead. You're very aware that he's generally caught you completely unprepared - his early arrival for your first sleepover, his impromptu visit last night - and you quite like the idea of actually being ready for him for a change, however much he enjoys finding you in his flannel shirt. You're not exactly the frilly lingerie type, but you did buy nice underwear for your sleepover, that you never got to wear, so you slip out of your jeans and sweater and into flimsy lace. In the bathroom, you check your hair and apply a little mascara, and then restlessly move back towards the bedroom. If Hopper's returning, it'll be soon.

Like the answer to a prayer, you hear a vehicle pulling into the driveway, and a quick glance through the window confirms it's him. You dash into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, trying to find a pose that looks natural and sexy at the same time. Footsteps sound on the porch, the front door creaks open, and the footsteps move closer.   
"Sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you to lock the goddamn-"  
He appears in the bedroom doorway, his words ceasing as he takes in the sight of you on the bed.   
"Holy shit." You can see him swallow. "All this, for me?"  
"Only you." You reply, and his answering growl might just be the hottest sound you've ever heard, as he lays his hat on the dresser and slowly stalks towards the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this one is to be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this started off smutty and went in a direction I didn't expect! Warning, angst is on the horizon...

His eyes are absolutely blazing, fixed on you as he approaches.  
"Don't move." He says softly, as he starts to remove his uniform. "Stay right there and let me look at you."  
You squirm just a little. As much as his appreciation turns you on, you know your body isn't perfect.  
"Don't. Move." He repeats, his tone firmer. "You bought that underwear for me, right?"  
"Yes."  
"Then let me appreciate it. Because you look so fucking good that I'm holding on by a thread here."  
Once he says that, you can see the tension in his body, helped by him stripping down to his boxers. When he drops them to the floor, you can't help a moan of appreciation of your own. Sure, you might look good in the lingerie, but naked Hopper is in a whole different class.

"You like what you see, baby?" He asks, the corner of his mouth lifting into a slight smile.   
"God, yes." You can't help it, the effect he has on you is too strong, your thighs pressing together with need, your breath quickening.   
"That's the exact same way I feel when I look at you." He tells you.   
You look from his face to his groin. His arousal is evident, he's throbbing hard, and as he takes his dick in his fist, you let out a whimper.

"That's right, sweetheart." He places one knee on the mattress, bringing himself that bit closer to you.   
"Hop, please!" You gasp, not even sure what you're asking for.   
"Please what, baby?" He's kneeling on the bed now, just inches from touching you.  
"Please..." Is all you manage.  
"We're not playing that game again, are we?" He leans down, bringing his face close to yours. "Because I might decide you're asking me to rip that pretty underwear off with my teeth."

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a scorching kiss. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you tight against his body, as his tongue plunges into your mouth. There's something about him crushing you to him like this that makes your heart sing as much as it makes your panties wet. You feel the band of your bra suddenly loosen and realise that he's undone it.

His lips move to your neck, and as he suckles a kiss there, you know you'll have a mark. Truth be told, you were kind of missing those hickeys. He nudges the strap of your bra from your shoulder and plants another kiss there.  
"Take it off, sweetheart, before it gets damaged."  
He loosens his hold on you enough for you to wriggle out of the bra, and then he throws it across the room. You can't help a snort of laughter, and he grins briefly before lacing his fingers through your hair and kissing you deeply as his hand finds your now naked breast.

He kisses your neck again, your shoulder, laying you back on the mattress as he works down to your chest, palming your breasts with his strong, capable hands as you writhe under him.   
"Want more, baby?" He pinches your nipples, and you arch up into his touch. "Yeah, you do." He answers for you. 

You're parting your legs without even thinking about it, desperate for his touch. You have no doubt that your fancy new panties are drenched, and the idea of him feeling that is making you even hotter.   
"Touch me." You gasp, and he half smiles.  
"I am touching you, baby." He squeezes your breast.  
"Hop!" You open your legs wider, and he looks down at your movement.  
"Can't say no to you, can I?" His hand traces a line from your breast, down across your belly, pausing just above the lace of your panties. Then he rests his palm over your mound and his groan mingles with yours. "So fucking wet for me."  
The pressure of his warm hand cupping your centre makes you gasp, tilting your hips up into his touch. He kisses you hard, and then you feel a sudden sting against your hip.  
"I'll replace 'em." He mumbles against your lips, and you realise with a jolt of arousal that he's just torn through the delicate lace of your panties. But then his hand is on your bare flesh and you can't think about anything else. 

His fingers easily part your folds, pushing inside you, stretching you open and robbing you of speech. Your high pitched whimpers mingle with the sound of his fingers thrusting into your soaked pussy, and the counterpoint of his deep growl of satisfaction. You're coming close the edge already, and you reach downwards on instinct to touch your clit. 

His fingers close around your wrist in a vicelike grip, and his other hand stops moving between your legs. You look up at him in surprise, and the expression on his face makes you swallow.   
"That's my job." He says softly. He takes your other wrist, and guides your hands above your head. "Leave them there."  
"Hop-" You're not really protesting, but a part of you is definitely testing his limits.   
"Don't make me cuff you." His face is serious, but you swear there's a slight lift at the corner of his mouth. Thing is, his words have you too turned on to question him. Keeping one hand on your wrists, he moves the other back between your legs, his eyes narrowing as he doubtless feels the fresh flood of moisture there. "Or maybe you want me to cuff you?"  
You honestly don't know your own answer to that question, so you just whimper again.   
"Not this time then, baby." He drops a kiss on your lips as his fingers pull the remains of your panties from your body, and then he's between your legs, his hands holding yours over your head as he drives into you in one swift thrust. 

"Fuck, sweetheart..." He groans, "So fucking wet..."  
He feels so good inside you, filling you completely, the slight stretch just making you even more aware of his size and strength, the weight of his body on yours. His hands grip your wrists tighter as he thrusts deep and hard, and you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to pull him deeper still.  
"Feels good when I'm inside you, doesn't it?" He pants.  
"God, Jim, yes..." You manage to reply.  
"'Cause you're mine. Made for me." He thrusts even deeper, the bedframe creaking in protest.   
Your thighs tighten, your feet dig into Hopper's firm rear, and he presses your wrists hard into the mattress above your head.   
"Let go, baby."   
Your release is almost violent, wracking your body with waves of pleasure, as he keeps tight hold of you. His lips find your neck as your head tips back, and he punctuates his own climax with another sucking kiss to your sensitive flesh. 

As your bodies still, Hop gently releases your hands, leaving you free to wrap your arms around him, keeping him on top of you even as he shifts to roll off.  
"Stay." You request, your voice a little raspy, and he complies, taking his weight on his elbow to avoid crushing you.   
"You okay, baby?" He strokes his free hand over your hair, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.   
"Mmm." Your legs are still lightly wrapped around him, holding him inside you. "Just don't go yet."  
"I'm not going anywhere." He assures you.   
"I love you." It's the first time you've said it first, but you cant keep it inside.   
His smile lights up his whole face. "I love you too, sweetheart."

"It's scary." You say softly, and he just raises an eyebrow, encouraging you to explain. "There are things you won't tell me." The words just fall out of your mouth, no doubt encouraged by your physical closeness, "You had this whole life before we met-"  
"So did you." He points out quietly.   
"But mine is... mundane. Whatever happened to you, to Jane, in this town, it's not that."  
"No," He looks tired suddenly, and sad. "It's not."  
"I thought I could cope without knowing. Before I..." You lick your suddenly dry lips, "Before I fell in love with you. I told myself it didn't matter that much."   
"You might not look at me the same way, if you knew." He lifts his body from yours, breaking your hold on him, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. You scramble to your knees, wrapping your arms around him from behind.  
"I don't believe that. I really don't."  
He rests his hands on your arms and sighs. "Then why does it matter?"  
"It's just does." You tell him, and he nods slowly.   
"I've got to make a call."   
"Hop-"   
But he stands, pulling fully away from you and grabbing his boxers.   
"Jim!" You protest, and he turns to look at you.   
"I'm going to call Joyce, see if she can take Jane." He runs a hand through his hair. "Then we're going to sit down and talk."  
You swallow and nod. You've gone from feeling as close to him as it's possible to be, to feeling frighteningly distant.   
"And then you'll probably ask me to leave." He looks resigned, and even though you shake your head frantically, he still looks devastated as he leaves the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did this smutfest turn into a proper story with angst and plot and all of that? Answers on a postcard, or in the comments please...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, big strong men being vulnerable is sexy, okay? And if you don't agree, maybe don't read on...

You sit at the same dining table that he bent you over on your first full night together. Hopper is wearing his boxers and a Hawkins PD t-shirt that you guess he had in his truck. You've deliberately put on one of his flannel shirts over a fresh set of underwear. You've also relaxed your rule of no smoking in the house, and Hop taps ash into a saucer as he talks. Even though you're sat close to him, it almost feels like he doesn't see you, lost in the past.

He stumbles over the part where he describes what he was like back then, even though you've heard the gossip yourself. The drinking, the casual sex, the deliberately tenuous grip on life. None of it makes you think any the less of him. You've known grief, even if it wasn't the grief of losing a child, so you can relate. You do suck in a breath when he starts to tell you the real story about Will Byers going missing - you'd always thought his bond with Joyce was more to do with them having known each other since high school. But as the tale continues to unfold, your eyes grow wider and wider. It's almost like you shouldn't believe him, except that everything about his words, his body language, his demeanour, tells you that he speaks the truth.

When he comes to the part about cutting open Will's body, your hand reaches for his, and he grips it so tight you have to suppress a gasp. You only know Will by sight, but you know he's one of Jane's best friends. And that's the other part of the story, of course. Jane - and now you understand her nickname, El for Eleven - and her origins in the Hawkins lab. The lab that led to the creation of a gateway to something horrifying, something that you don't want to believe and yet you do. You've seen some shit in your time, but nothing that comes close to this.

As the story builds towards some kind of climax, you realise that Hop's shaking.  
"Wait," You say softly, "Just for a second." You dash into the living room and grab a throw blanket from the couch, bringing it back to drape around his shoulders.  
His mouth lifts into a half smile, and he looks you in the eye for the first time since he started talking, as he lights another cigarette. "You taking care of me, now?"  
"Anytime. Always."  
He reaches for your hand again as you sit back down. "You stopped loving me yet?" He says it like a joke, but his eyes say otherwise.  
"Never."  
The sound that comes out of his mouth is somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and he entwines his fingers with yours and takes a deep breath. "Where was I?"  
"The high school." You tell him, though you know he hasn't forgotten, and he continues.

A little later, while he tells you about Jane in the woods, you put on a pot of coffee. His voice is getting raspy from talking so much, so you hand him a glass of water too, which he drains in a couple of gulps. When you go to sit back down, he pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. The chair isn't built for the weight of two people, and creaks ominously, but you can't bring yourself to care. You tuck yourself into his body, trying to give him your warmth.  
"Hang onto me, baby." He stands with you still in his arms, and half walks, half staggers into the living room, sitting down on the couch, keeping you in his lap. "There we go."  
It's inappropriate how sexy you find that move, but you can't help it.

And so the next part of the story is rasped into your ear as you sit in his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. His hands stroke over your back, your arms, seeming to soothe him as much as it soothes you. It's all horror and loss, and you can't help crying when he tells you about Joyce's boyfriend Bob, your tears wetting Hop's neck and soaking into his t-shirt. When he finally reaches the end, you sit in silence for a little while.

"So, you and Joyce..." You begin, and to your surprise a laugh rumbles up from his chest.  
"That's your question? After everything I just told you, that's the part you have questions about?"  
You raise your head from his shoulder and look him in the eye. "Everything else is completely clear to me."  
You watch him try to control his laughter, but your own lips are twitching.  
"Me and Joyce," He starts, before another spurt of laughter, "Friends. Parents. You know." He's almost hysterical with laughter now, "I can't believe... your only question..."  
You're laughing now too, your shoulders shaking. You know this is all a stress reaction, but you can't help it, and clearly nor can Hopper.

But then his laughter starts to turn to something else, the tears coming from his eyes no longer a result of mirth. A great sob heaves itself from his chest, and you wrap your arms around him as he presses his face into your shoulder. His body is wracked with convulsive sobs, and you feel your shirt growing wet. You curl your body around him, trying to blanket him, even though he's so much bigger than you. You don't know how long those heaving sobs last, it feels like forever and no time at all before you realise his body has calmed, his breath slowing. When he finally raises his head, he looks you right in the eye.  
"Is this the part where you ask me to leave?"  
Your voice is shaking as you reply, "This is the part where I tell you I never want you to leave."

He carries you to the bedroom, because he obviously needs to, and you have no objection at all. His kisses are both hungry and loving, a potent mixture of need and dominance. He makes you come with his fingers, his lips on your breasts, before he moves above you. You're a little sore from earlier, but the way he enters you and just rocks slowly inside you, your legs and arms wrapped around him, you don't feel any pain. All you feel is intimacy and comfort, the soothing of hurt and the further cementing of your relationship. When he whispers, "Mine..." as he comes, there's an edge of wonder to it.

Afterwards, you doze for a while, wrapped up with each other under the blankets. Hopper plants sleepy kisses on your skin, gathering you closer every time one of you shifts positions, almost like he's afraid to let go of you.  
"I'm not going anywhere." You murmur, and he gives a grunt of approval.   
"Damn right."   
You can't help but smile at that. This is your man, your big, sexy, possessive, dominating, scarred, vulnerable, incredible man. This is Jim Hopper, no more secrets, no more lies, and by some miracle, he's yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of the story! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm definitely not ruling out writing more Hopper, so if there's something you'd like to see, comment and let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading,
> 
> DoB xx


End file.
